One Night
by Dragonfly-Moonlight
Summary: The Fellowships gets separated, and two estranged allies must rely on each other for survival.


At what point Frodo and Boromir had become separated from the others, the hobbit could not say. He knew they needed to find the rest of the Fellowship before the sun went down, but it was looking to be somewhat impossible. Already, the sun was sinking in the horizon, hiding herself from the world. Finding Gandalf and the others would be no easy task, not even with the snow covering the ground.

Frodo pulled his cloak tighter over his shoulders, a futile effort to ward off the cold, and he continued to look around, hoping to find some signs of the rest of the Fellowship. A large hand clasped his shoulder, and Frodo turned. Boromir stood behind him, a tired and concerned expression on his face.

"We need to find shelter," the Man said. "It is going to be a cold night."

"What about Gandalf and the others?" Frodo inquired.

"We are not going to find them before the sun goes down," Boromir replied. "And I, for one, do not wish to be searching after nightfall. Tracks are much easier to find in daylight."

Frodo grudgingly admitted the Man had a point, but he still did not like the idea of being alone with Boromir. Something about the Man lately caused Frodo's nerves to be a little jumpier than what they should have, and Frodo could not be certain if he could trust Boromir around the Ring. He knew the Man from Gondor wanted to take the Ring back to Minas Tirith so it could be used against the Dark Lord, which was not an option in Frodo's mind. Frodo wanted the One Ring destroyed so it could not threaten Middle Earth ever again.

Still, the hobbit supposed he could trust Boromir for one night. The Man would not try anything, not when Gandalf could find him easily enough.

Boromir stepped away, and Frodo followed him, keeping his cloak pulled tight. The Sun continued her descent, shrouding the world in darkness by the time Boromir led Frodo to a small alcove covered with branches. It was large enough to hold both of them comfortably, and Frodo built a fire so they could keep a little warmer, making sure the flames did not create too much smoke. They were trying to avoid unfriendly eyes, not draw attention to them.

After an hour of silence, Frodo noticed Boromir starting to become restless, and he wondered if the Man's behaviour had anything to do with the One Ring. Frodo could hear It whispering, calling out for someone to try and claim It as his own, and he knew if he could hear It that Boromir could as well. Finally, Boromir spoke.

"Your homeland . . . it is dear to you, is it not?"

"It is," Frodo replied, his tone quiet and somber. The Man nodded.

"I thought as much," the Man murmured. His gaze traveled to the small fire. "Everyone on this journey has something worth fighting for, even if they do not realize it as of yet."

"I think we have all realized exactly that on this journey," Frodo said. He shifted so he could rest a little more comfortably than what he was feeling. "If we had not, we might have given up already."

"Point well made, Master Hobbit." Something flickered in the Man's eyes, and Frodo tilted his head when he noticed it, curious. He could not decide if it was admiration or lust or something else he could not name. Boromir then straightened his back and turned to the makeshift entrance, his stare with Frodo broken. "I will take the first watch. Get some rest, if you can."

Frodo nodded, unable to say anything more and unsure if he even wanted to speak. He pulled his blanket over him and closed his eyes, his mind drifting to blue waters and pristine palace walls.

Boromir heaved a weary sigh and allowed himself one final glance at the hobbit sleeping behind him before returning his attention back to the shelter's entrance. When he had asked the Grey Wizard about Frodo and his kin, Gandalf had said they were a race full of surprises, displaying a strength when one least expected it. He knew this was not what Gandalf was referring to, but it felt very close.

There was also something about Frodo that had taken Boromir by surprise, something he could not identify, and he recently started to feel distinctly uncomfortable around the hobbit. It was something in Frodo's eyes that ensnared him every time, and he sensed himself drowning with each long stare. He immediately shook his head and forced himself to focus. Boromir also tried to ignore the call of the One Ring and Its pleas for him to claim It. He could not do that to Frodo or the others, not when they trusted him, and he did not want to shatter that trust.

Boromir unsheathed his sword and set it across his lap. It was going to be a very long night.


End file.
